Danielle Paquette: Early morning, on a US Airways flight from Los Angeles to Tampa, Taryn Stone cradles a bonsai tree and chats with a gray-haired man who just bought her two shots of Jameson whiskey.
“Where’d you get that tree, anyway?” he asks.
“On the side of the road in L.A.,” she says, laughing. “It’s for my husband.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I work in the film industry.”
“Doing what?”
The bubbly 23-year-old considers the vaguest possible response. Should she avoid the conversation that made her mother weep? This guy seems cool enough, she thinks. Or simply buzzed.
“I’m the talent.”
“Like an actress?” he presses. “Where have I seen you?”
She pauses. All around people are snoring into travel pillows.
“Actually, I’m a porn star.”
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